Free Again
by RosevalleyNB
Summary: Two years post-war. Somehow, life rarely turns out as you hoped. An article in the Prophet ignites a spark of hope in Katie. Maybe, not all is lost. AU/ drabbel-ish.
1. Chapter 1

**Usual disclaimers apply; anything recognisable belongs to their rightful owner(s). I'm just playing around in the world JK Rowling has created.**

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><p><em>The screams and cries of agony of the wounded mixed with the war cries of the fighters still standing. Hexes and curses were thrown, almost at random it seemed. Every now and then a body would drop, never to stand up again. Thick, black smoke rose from the castle. Large pieces of debris were scattered all over the grounds, a blessing and curse at the same time for those who fought. <em>

_The noises around her blurred into one monotone buzzing, the smell of something burning nauseating her. The exhaustion from fighting and pain from an earlier thrown curse, drained Katie from all her energy. All she could do now was lean against a pile of stones, presumably from one of the collapsed castle towers, and focus on healing herself. Her breath came out raggedy and she was unfocused, not seeing the dangers that surrounded her. Blood trickled down her jaw from a cut on the side of her head, but her attention was on her left leg. The spell that had hit her earlier cut through her jeans, exposing deep gashes and broken bone. Blood flowed a steadily and she felt herself get lightheaded from the loss and sight. _

_Just as she was about to close her eyes, a figure appeared in front of her. The dark cloak and silver mask left no doubt to which side he belonged. In spite of the haze she was in, Katie could still hear the maniacal laugh. With blurred vision, she saw the figure point his wand at her and she couldn't summon the strength to defend herself. 'This is it,' she thought, closing her eyes. 'This is how I die.'_

_"__Avada…"_

Katie shot upright in bed, breathing heavily. It had been a while since she'd had this nightmare, but it was at least better than the ones where she had seen her friends and schoolmates being torn apart by Fenrir Greyback. Those were harder to shake off, even if the nightmares were hazy. For a minute, she felt disoriented and couldn't stop the shaking that had taken over her body. It was the familiarity of the room that managed to calm her down. She was safe here, the war nothing more than a distant dream for tonight.

Even now, more than two years since the end of the war, Katie was plagued with nightmares of that final battle. It had lessened over time, both the frequency and intensity. But every now and then, like the last few days, the horrific images were back with a vengeance. The screams and cries still resonated in her ears, almost driving her mad with desperation to get rid of them. Potions didn't help, delayed her waking up if anything, keeping her trapped in the hell of her mind.

Her eye fell on the days old Prophet on the coffee table, the reason for her newest relapse. She had refused to throw it away, the small spark of hope it had ignited in her was worth the sleepless nights. The dim light in the living room illuminated the newspaper just enough for Katie to make up the headline and see the photograph on the front page. Gently, Katie traced her finger over the picture. The man in it scowled at her and shook his head in annoyance. The movement was achingly familiar, Katie couldn't help the dry sob that escaped her. It reminded her of a time when she had been truly happy.

It was a high pitched cry of a small baby that broke her reveries, catapulting her back to the her current reality in which she existed instead of lived.

Sighing, Katie stood up and stretched her stiff limbs and back to loosen the knots in her aching body. She really needed to try and sleep in her bed. The baby, Emma, was crying more urgently now, she was clearly hungry. With a flick of her wand a bottle of milk was warmed and Katie made her way up the stairs to feed the little one. Hopefully, her company would chase away the shadows for tonight.

"Katie? You got her bottle?" Oliver yawned, eyes barely open. He was still half asleep, the pattern of his pillow imprinted on his cheek.

"Yeah. You go back to sleep."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go." Katie watched Oliver stumble back to bed, a bit jealous of his ability to close his eyes without being tortured with haunting images. Resented that he didn't even ask why she was wide awake at this time of night or didn't insist on feeding his daughter himself. Of course he wouldn't, the new Quidditch season was about to begin tomorrow and he had finally made it to Puddlemere's first team. It would be his debut, the most important day for his career and he needed all the rest he could manage.

_'__You do understand, don't you, Katie? His career is more important than your sanity.'_

That night, as Katie fed eight week old Emma, she couldn't help but to think about that man in the picture and wonder about how her life could have been if they hadn't taken him away from her. Two years, two of the loneliest years of her life in which she was shackled to a life she never wanted.

Gods, she hated how her life had turned out.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since Emma's birth, life became hectic in the Bell- Wood household. Usually, Mrs Bell and Mrs Wood alternated daily to help out and watch over the little girl when both Katie and Oliver went to work. Although Oliver always told that she didn't have to work, that he could take care of both her and Emma, Katie still worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports as an assistant. A job a father had arranged for her directly after the war. The injuries she had sustained in the fight had ruined any chance she might have had at a professional Quidditch career. Sometimes, she resented that Oliver and her friends got the chance to follow their dreams while she was stuck with a mangled leg and a job she hated. But she didn't quit, it was a matter of principle for her; she refused to be depended on Oliver or her parents.

_'__Deep breaths.'_

Today, she wasn't going to think about that, because today marked a milestone. Something that had kept her awake for the past few night. she had awoken early and all dressed and ready to Floo to the Ministry by seven in the morning, even if it was her day off. Emma's necessities and pram were already reduced and in her handbag. As soon as Emma finished her bottle, they'd be off. Katie's restlessness only increased as she counted down the minutes and willed the child in her arms to drink faster.

Her eye fell on the old Prophet again and her heart started racing in her chest, like it had the first time she had read it. The man in the picture was scowling at her again and turned his head with a silent huff, making Katie chuckle. The headlines were screaming at her it seemed, and she couldn't help but reach for the creased paper and read the article again.

**ALLEGED DEATH EATERS CLEARED FROM ALL CHARGES AFTER 2 YEARS**

**SUSPECTS TO BE RELEASED DUE TO LACK IN EVIDENCE**

**Ignatius Montague has won his two year crusade against the Wizengamot. Mr Montague started his fight against the highest court of law mere weeks after the end of the war when his nephew, Graham Montague, was arrested on suspicions of Death Eater activities. At the time, the only evidence the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix had were hearsay and rumours, according to Mr Montague. Pending investigation, the young man died in Azkaban prison. He had been frail of health ever since an unfortunate accident during his schooling at Hogwarts. His families' appeals to release the young man into their custody, so he could receive proper care, had been rejected by the Wizengamot on several occasions. Just four weeks after his incarceration, Mr Graham Montague died due to lacking care he had received in the high security prison. Post mortem, the Auror Department concluded that there weren't any evidence against Mr Montague.**

**"****My nephew fell victim to vicious rumours originating from resentful members of our community. He was a scapegoat in the Ministry's rush to arrest war criminals to make up for their past mistakes and Graham was their first victim. Unfortunately, my nephew's case is not solitary. As we speak, dozens of men and women are still held captive without a shred of evidence and out so-called justice system refuses to release them because of their fear to lose face. Instead, the real criminals are pardoned or only have to pay a fine because of their connections and fortune. Where is the justice in that? It has taken me and my family nearly two and a half years to get this far and we are relieved that the Wizengamot has seen the error of its way. This will not bring back our Graham, but we are sure that he can rest in peace now. Others will be spared the treatment he had to endure and families will be united again. His death will not be in vain."**

**Currently there are 85 men and women held in Azkaban prison without any hard evidence to prove their guilt. These men and women were solely arrested because of complaints brought against them by anonymous members of our society. These, recently found innocent, wizards and witches will be released on October 2****nd****. The location and time of release is currently not disclosed by the Ministry. **

The Ministry may have not disclosed the details of the release to the media, but working there had some benefits. For instance, the prisoners were not released on the second, but two days earlier. And, Katie also knew where they would arrive from Azkaban; in the Wizengamot chambers where they would be presented with an official document stating their innocence and receive back their wands.

For the first time in a very long time, Katie felt something that resembles giddiness. In a few short hours, he would be returned to her. His name was on the list, he had been publicly exonerated and there were no reasons to keep him locked up anymore. She hoped that Mr Montague appreciated the bottle of Ogden's she had sent him, it was the least she could do as a thank you for his hard work. "Come on, baby, drink a little faster please," Katie cooed.

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Oliver startled her as he stood in the door opening, his arms folded and watching her with a scathing look. Like herself, he was already showered and dressed. Apparently, in her absentminded state, she hadn't heard him get up, had preferred not to see him at all this morning.

"Why are you up this early? Go back to bed," Katie turned her gaze back to Emma, she was almost done, thankfully.

"Answer the question."

Katie didn't respond, what was there to say? Oliver wouldn't understand, he never had, never liked _him_. Instead, she patted Emma on the back as she reached for her bag and cloak. It was almost time.

"Katie, don't do this."

"I have to," Katie replied softly, her eyes still on the baby. She didn't want to see the disappointed look in Oliver's eyes. "He needs me."

"We need you here." It almost sounded as if he meant it. But, Katie knew better; he needed her as much as he needed the Dragon Pox. They were just two people stuck together in an unfortunate agreement, both too scared to leave or to be left behind.

Neither of them spoke for a while, not looking at each other and not knowing what to say. The suffocating silence in the kitchen was only disturbed by the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall. It was a reminder that she was wasting precious time. "I need to go."

"I'm coming with you."

"Oliver…" Katie started, but was abruptly interrupted.

"You have my daughter with you. You leave her here and don't bother coming back, or I'm coming with you."

Katie bit her lip, starting a fight with Oliver this morning was not something she wanted to waste her energy on. If he hadn't meant it seriously about not allowing her to come back, he would if they started a row. How could she leave Emma? He would certainly try to keep the little girl from her, but he wasn't capable of caring for himself, either. The last time he had tried that, the baby had been in hysterics by the time Katie had returned. Oliver had fed her cold milk and used magic to change her nappies, causing a massive allergic reaction. It had taken hours to calm her down and the argument that had followed, had eroded their already fragile relationship further. "Fine. We're leaving now."

As the green flames engulfed them, Katie wondered if she was doing the right thing with bringing her little family along. Would _he_ understand?


	3. Chapter 3

**Usual disclaimers apply; anything recognisable belongs to their rightful owner(s). I'm just playing around in the world JK Rowling has created.**

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><p>The bright lights in the room hurt his eyes as he stood waiting in the line towards his freedom. After spending more than two years in a small dark cell with enough space to take two steps, it was almost frightening to be in a room as large and bright as this and his nails dug in the palms of his hand in near panic, drawing blood. He didn't manage to swallow away the choking lump in his throat. For a minute, he wished to be back in his cell. He knew what to expect there, it was familiar unlike what he was facing on the other side of those heavy wooden doors. He tried not to stare at it, focussing on the shoulder of the man in front of him.<p>

Cold sweat dripped down his back, stinging on his skin. It had taken a long and hard scrubbing, almost until he had bled, to remove the filth, grime and the horrors of prison from his body. The blunt razor they had given him to shave off his beard had nicked his skin, leaving numerous little cuts behind. The second-hand robes hung around his emaciated frame, the shoes he was given were a size too small. His stomach rumbled, the cold broth he'd been given as breakfast long digested. The guards hadn't wanted to give more, afraid that the prisoners would be sick after not eating a decent meal in so long.

The line moved slowly. Earlier, he had tried to peer along it to see what was taking so long, only to be roughly shoved back by one of the guards. He and the other men and women in this room may have been found innocent, but they still were treated as criminals. The shackles around his arms and leg that restrained his magic, cut into his skin. He was sure the wardens had put them on too tight on purpose, a final act of cruelty.

He tried hard not to think of what would be awaiting him on the other side of those large wooden doors, his resolve breaking with each little step forward to his freedom. Was his family home still standing, would he be allowed to return there? Would he be able to find work? But most of all, he tried not to think of _her_ and failing miserably at it. She had been the one that had kept him going for this long in that hellhole. He longed to see her, hold her. Would she be waiting for him?

"Flint."

Marcus shuffled forward to the desk. On old wizard with a bright white beard and dressed in red robes sat behind his desk, hunched over several documents and a boxes. The man did not introduce himself or look at Marcus. "State your full name."

"Marcus Aurelius Flint." His voice was hoarse, it had been the first time in a long time that he'd been given permission to talk and it felt almost alien to do so again.

"Date of birth?"

"November fifth, 1975."

"Last known address?"

Marcus stated the requested, thinking of the tiny cottage in Tinworth where he was born and raised. The saggy house with his father's cauldron workshop attached to it. A place where he had spent hours, learning the trade and eagerly listening to his father's stories about his own youth.

The man was talking again, about the Wizengamot decree, the charges that had been brought against him and how he was no longer a suspect in the crimes they had accused him of. Marcus didn't listen, his eyes were fixed on the white box with his name on it. The one that held is wand, his hand itched to hold it again.

"Take off the shackles," the Wizengamot member ordered one of the guards.

As soon as the bindings were of his body, Marcus could feel the magic flow through him again, a faint tingling just beneath his skin. It made him feel almost whole again. Almost.

"Mr Flint, hereby you are cleared from all charges that were brought against you. Your wand will be returned to you as soon as you sign this document and then you're free to go."

The man still did not look at Marcus as he spoke the rehearsed words in a bored tone. The man only pushed a quill and parchment towards Marcus and pointed at it, his eyes trained on somebody else's file. Marcus did as he was told and accepted the white box that was shoved in his hands. He tried to remove the lid, longing to hold his wand again.

"The box is charmed to open once you've left the Ministry. No use trying to do that here," the guard told him gruffly and pushed Marcus towards the doors. "Off you go."

His mouth felt parched and his palms were sweaty as he shuffled towards the heavy oak doors. He couldn't help himself but jump a bit when the doors swung open, the sudden movement startling him. The different and even brighter lights, left him blinded for a second. There were faint murmurs all over, wizards and witches who were anxiously waiting for their loved ones, followed by disappointed sighs when they noticed that he was not that person.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to light, Marcus looked around in the hope to see a familiar face. Her face. It did not take long. There she stood, to the right, just behind the large group that nearly blocked the exit of the hearing chambers. His lips curled up in a small smile, something he hadn't done in so long, it felt almost alien. She hadn't changed a bit, he didn't think he could have handled it if she had. He wanted to run to her, grab her and get away from this god-awful place as soon as possible.

He almost did, until he saw who she was with. Katie had not seen him yet, she was too fixed on the little bundle in her arms, rocking it as Wood stood by, gently rubbing the whimpering child's dark hair. The bastard had seen him, though. Glaring at him, daring him to come closer.

Marcus hung his head, feeling more defeated than he had in those two years he had been locked up, and left. He'd seen enough.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a grey and windy day, the waves beat down mercilessly on the shore, washing away parts of the beach, only to leave foam and debris behind. The sea was purging itself from its unwanted contents, something Katie wished she could do with elements in her own life. A storm was expected for later that evening and people had been warned to stay inside and not to go out unless it was absolutely necessary. The beach was almost empty, except the occasional seagulls and a local walking their dog while they still had the chance.

From a the small dirt path nearby, Katie watched the scenery, almost hypnotized by its savage beauty. She had walked this path dozens of times instead of Apparating or Flooing directly to the cottage, it always felt like a sin to skip this beautiful scenery. She had spent most of summer before the battle here, easily the best days of her life. A time when the glooming war had been just that, a distant rumour that wouldn't affect her, affect them. How naïve had she been?

The first raindrops felt cold on her face, urging her to move before she got caught in the storm. Just a few more minutes before she reached her destination; Flint cottage. If she closed her eyes, she still could hear Mrs Flint (_Call me Lena, dear) _call out to her, telling her to hurry up before her tea got cold. And Mr Flint's (_Call me whatever you like_) roaring laughter at his wife's scolding for entering the house with dirty shoes. The thoughts of them, made Katie choke up, her eyes were unfocussed with unshed tears.

Both of them were gone now, victims of a war they had tried so hard to stay out off. Punished for refusing to join Voldemort's cause. They never managed to find Mr Flint's remains, the only thing left were his bloodied bonding rings, sent back to Marcus as a taunt and a warning. At least the bastards had been merciful on Lena, the killing curse had taken her life in an instant, pain free.

The cottage was in sight now, the first place that came to mind to search for Marcus. Katie had spent almost a whole day waiting outside of the Wizengamot chambers, nearly in tears with anticipation. It wasn't until Oliver confessed that he'd seen him leave hours earlier, when she finally went back home. That was two days ago. Oliver had taken Emma to his Mum's that night, 'to let you cool off' as he had put it and hadn't been back since. The harsh words said between them were too much to overcome in such a short period.

Her mother had tried to talk sense into her, begging her to choose her family instead of an Azkaban convict. And therein lay the problem, didn't it? Like everything in her life since the war, it was decided for her, no-one cared to ask her opinion in the matter. And even though Marcus was declared innocent, people would always believe him to be criminal. Even her own parents, who at one time liked Marcus, believed what had been written about him. Because, where there's smoke, there's fire, in their opinion. The unfairness of how their lives turned out had Katie lying awake at nights as she tried to repress the urge to scream out her frustrations.

The house wasn't as she remembered it anymore. Lena's treasured flowerbeds were overgrown with weed, her rosebushes pulled out long ago. The roof had sagged in the two years since she had last been here, and windows were thrown in, the curtains behind it waving gently in the wind. Crimson words, the colour reminding her of blood, were chalked on the walls and door, the paint still dripping. Traitor. Murderer.

Katie shook her head in sadness, he would never be free.

There was a dim light behind the thin curtains and she could see a shadow moving inside. Slowly, she walked up to the door, not wanting to scare him. Her knuckles were covered in the paint when she knocked on the door. There was no answer. "Marcus? Are you in there?" She could hear a faint shuffle that came to an halt on the other side of the door, but it did not open. She imagined him standing there, eager to see her again as she was him. "Please, let me in."

He never did that day, nor in the days that followed. Katie didn't give up easily, though. Every day after work, and sometimes the whole day on her days off and during the weekends, she would stand for hours at his door. Sometimes calling out for him, sometimes just sitting and waiting whilst she reminisced and wondered why he did not want to see her.


	5. Chapter 5

For the last three weeks Marcus had been working on fixing the cottage. The bad weather didn't help much, but it didn't stop him. The roof was fixed, the hearth was working again and the house was clean of doxies. It would help him pass the winter until he could do more as spring came along. For now, he needed to focus on his father's workshop.

Half-finished cauldrons were scattered everywhere, the finished ones and useful equipment stolen years ago. Repairing the damage would take a long time, even with magic. He would need Galleons to replace the unfixable and that was something he did not have much of. The Ministry had helped him with a getting a job as caretaker for the Tornados' stadium last week, the team he had once hoped to be a part of. He had even passed the first try-out rounds at one time. The closest he was to that dream now was cleaning after a game and repairing the damaged pitch. He didn't even own a broom anymore, other than the sweeping kind.

Chewing on his piece of stale bread, he looked around the workshop, trying to decide on where to start first. The chances that someone would ever buy a cauldron off of his were slim, but he reckoned that he at least should try. Besides flying, it was the one thing he was best in. His family had been blacksmiths for generations, their cauldrons once equalled high quality and were well sought after by potions masters.

Now the name Flint equalled war criminal, the Prophet had made sure to print that lie non-stop two years ago. The general public had judged and convicted him long before he had even left the MLE's holding cells. Marcus was never told who had brought the claims against him, he'd been only told what the charges were; betraying his best friend Adrian Pucey and his Muggleborn wife to the Death Eaters and causing their torture and murder.

He tried to shake off the horrid images of that night. Celeste's screams and Adrian's pleas to release his wife and take him instead, still haunted him at nights. He still could feel the warm blood drops, that had sprayed around each time Celeste was hit with a slicing curse, on his skin. Burning their way to his bones. The restraints that had held him and the rest of the villagers rooted to their spot still burned his body, suffocated him.

In hindsight, the attack had been well planned. The whole village had been taken out of their homes and rounded up on the village square, forced into magical bindings. The Puceys had been the target all along, brought in front of their neighbours and friends to be made an example of and executed, after hours of horrific torture.

Marcus didn't need to read the Prophet to tell him he was responsible. He'd always felt that he should have fought harder, done something, to save his friends. After the murder of his parents, he should have been prepared, should have warned Adrian to leave the country. But, hadn't done none of that, too immersed in his grief over the loss of his parents and his worry for Katie's safety. The guilt had left him nearly paralyzed, until he found himself arrested by Aurors.

Lost in thought, he hadn't heard the footsteps behind him. In his eager to get started in the workshop, he had forgot to lock the door when he first entered.

"Marcus?"

He froze. Her voice was the last he had expected to hear. The voice that once had whispered 'I love you' just before he fell asleep at nights, the voice that had promised him that everything would be all right when he had laid with his head in her lap, sobbing uncontrollably over the loss of his parents, his friends. That voice belonged to the woman he had loved for so long. The one who hadn't waited for him.

He turned around slowly, his head downcast and eyes fixed on his father's worn out boots on his feet, afraid of what he might say or do. "What are you doing here?" She took a step towards him and he stepped back, adamant to keep the distance between them. She wasn't his anymore and had no business coming here.

"I came to see you."

He wanted to feel hope, but knew it was too late for them. She had made her choice. "Why?"

"Do you even have to ask?" There was a moment of silence before she continued, "Because I've missed you."

He scoffed at that, even if his chest tightened at her words. The image of Wood and the small baby came to the forefront. She had already filled the void with someone else. Why was she here torturing him? "You should leave."

"Marcus, will you look at me, please? I've waited so long to see you again." She took another step closer, he didn't move this time. "Please, look at me."

"Does Wood know you're here?" He turned his back to her and focussed on the dented cauldron in a corner. Maybe, he could fix it enough to sell it.

"N-no. This is none of his business."

His hand clenched into fists. Was this even his Katie? How could she say that? "You've seen me, you should go home now. I'm too busy as it is."

It hurt him too much to have her so near and not being to hold her. Marcus might have hated Wood at some point, a childish rivalry than anything else, but he wasn't about to get between them. Katie had her family with him now, there was no place for Marcus in her life. Not the way he wanted it.

The sudden wrapping of two arms around him, caught him off guard. Her body was pressed against his back as her hands fisted the front of his jumper. She was crying, her tears soaked through the fabric. He hated when she cried, more so when he was the cause of her tears. For a while they just stood there, her sobs and the rain outside the only sounds. He took her soft hands in his calloused ones, kissing her knuckles as he had done so many times before. She always had a way with breaking his resolve.

Maybe, just maybe, they could still be friends.


	6. Chapter 6

The house was cold and dark as Katie entered. She knew Marcus had his first day as one of the Tornadoes' caretaker today, but had expected him back already. Frowning in worry, she lit the lights and made her way to the kitchen and called out for him. "Marcus, are you here?" There was no response. The house remained silent.

Since he had accepted her back in his life last week, Katie made a habit of stopping by each day. Mainly to check if he was alright and to get him used to having company again. Days after his release, she had learned from Terence and Caius that he hadn't bothered contacting them and ignored all of their messages. Of his old friends, only those two were left. The others had vanished, been killed or were in Azkaban. She could only guess why Marcus ignored his friends as he wasn't forthcoming into why.

Katie praised herself lucky that he accepted her back, even if he kept his distance from her. For each step she tried to come closer, he stepped one back. They didn't talk much; he refused to say anything about his time spent in Azkaban, nor did he want to know the happenings during his two year absence. Most of the nights they spent in silence, sitting beside each other and sipping from whatever he had to offer. Which wasn't much.

Money was tight, she knew. Always had been in the Flint household, even before the Ministry had seized their possessions upon his arrest. Now that he was released, the only belongings he had were the clothes on his back and his parents' house.

It was hard to look at Marcus and recognise the man he once had been. His pale skin and his thin frame were in stark contrast with the hulky and healthy man she remembered. His face and arms were covered with scars. Scars that had not been there before his imprisonment. There had been a time she had memorised each inch of his body, as he had with hers. Whilst she hadn't changed much, he was barely recognisable anymore.

With a quivering sigh, Katie dropped the overflowing grocery bags on the wonky kitchen table. There wasn't time to shed her tears, she had work to do. As she had expected, the cupboards were empty and she wondered if Marcus had eaten at all that morning. Shaking her head, Katie set to work. It took her less than an hour to tidy kitchen, lit the hearth and burners and have stew cooking. Her mission was to nurse him back to his old self and preparing his favourite dinners were a large part of that.

It was nearly eight in the evening when it became harder to shake off the worry. Marcus hadn't returned yet. Earlier, she had sent Oliver a message to tell him that she wouldn't be home for dinner, but now she was also going to miss putting Emma to bed. Still, she couldn't move herself to go home without knowing if Marcus was all right.

A disturbance outside caught her attention, loud voices and then a thud. As her heart beat frantically in her chest, Katie drew her wand and inched closer to the door. The house was vandalised almost on a daily basis, some of the residents of Tinworth were not happy with Marcus' return and weren't privy on voicing that displeasure. Those men and women believed that he had been the one to betray the Pucey's and took it upon themselves to drive Marcus away, by any means necessary.

Katie peeked through the small window in the front door. There were two shadows distinguishable, one on the ground and the other bend over it. Without thinking, Katie threw open the door and ran outside, her wand firmly in hand.

"What's going on here?" she called out. The shadow bend over the other turned his head towards her. Katie did not recognise the man. "Who are you?"

"Help him," the shadow croaked, "They came out of nowhere."

As Katie neared, she recognised Marcus as the one lying on the ground. He was unconscious and bleeding profusely from different cuts all over his body. In a blind panic, she dropped on her knees beside him. "What happened? Who did this?"

"They were waiting for us, they did," the man explained, "Murderer they yelled at him, didn't give us time to defend ourselves."

"We need to take him to St. Mungo's, they can heal him," Katie was nearly in tears now. Each time she thought she had healed a wound, another one started to bleed again, "I can't do this alone."

"No, miss. Marcus refused. Let's get him inside. I can help you." The man had Marcus already levitated. "Tell me where to put him."

That night, the man, Henry McLeod, and Katie spent hours on healing Marcus wounds. When Henry left just after midnight and promised to return in the morning with blood replenishment potion, she spent another few hours watching over Marcus. She dabbed the blood off his face and body and every hour cast new warming charms to keep him comfortable. The tightening in her chest was so severe it was hard to breath at times. All she needed was for him to open his eyes, to show a sign of life.

"Please, come back to me."

It took two days for Marcus to do that. For those two days, Katie sat by him. Her obligations to her family and work forgotten.


	7. Chapter 7

_"__Please, stop," Her voice had given out many curses earlier and all she can manage now was a hoarse whisper. The woman has dropped to her knees, her hands tied behind her to a pole as blood flows generously from the different cuts on her body, pooling around her. She sobs in silence, the only evidence of it is her shaking body. In front of her lay her husband, his lifeless eyes wide open. He was spared most of the brutalities his wife has to endure. "Please, end this."_

_Marcus tries to run to her, the bounds cutting the flesh of his wrists and ankles. But, he and the rest of the townspeople are firmly held in place by the different charms; frozen to their spot and their voices cut off. It wasn't just the couple who were punished for their 'crimes', but their friends and neighbours as well for not turning them in. This was their punishment._

_A shrill laugh from behind a silver mask is the only reply to the woman's plea before she is hit with another curse. Marcus feels the hot blood spatter on his face as Celeste's throat is cut open. His insides recoil at the feel and sight, even more so than it had when he had to witness Adrian getting hit with the Avada Kedavra. _

_"__No! You bastards, take me. Leave her alone, take me!" He yells to no avail, no-one can hear him, to his frustration. He can't let this happen; he had promised Adrian to protect Celeste if the need should arise. Instead of doing so, he watches her getting tortured to death, the Killing Curse found too merciful for the Muggleborn. "Let her go! I'll kill you for this, let her go!"_

_"__Marcus."_

_A sense of calm washes over him as a small warm hand holds his arm firmly and suddenly he isn't at the village square anymore. Instead, he is on the beach, his arms and legs free. Seagulls fly in the distance as the calm sea glistens brightly in the sun. The despair he had felt only seconds earlier fades away as soon as he lays eyes on the woman in front of him. There stands Katie, she seems to glow like an angel. She smiles up at him as she comes closer and wraps her arms around him. "It's just a dream."_

_The feel of her body pressed against his is achingly familiar, her scent is everywhere. Even if this is a dream, the weight of her body against his feels all too real. He hopes that he never wakes up from this moment. Marcus swallows hard as he looks down on her, his Katie. "I've missed you," he croaks._

_"__I'm right here," Katie laughs and stands on her toes to peck him on the cheek, "You're just not looking close enough."_

_Marcus holds her tighter, the lingering feel of her lips triggered a need. Before he can help himself, he crashes his mouth on hers, desperate to taste her again, like he had done some many times before. His fingers curl around her hair in his need to have her closer, as the other traces her curves over the thin summer dress she is wearing._

"Oh, Marcus," she moans against his lips and he can feel her shiver under his touch.

Something in the way Katie says his name, makes Marcus freeze. His breathing becomes ragged and suddenly, the pain takes over his senses. As he opens his eyes, he realises that he's not on the beach anymore. Instead, he's lying in a dimly lighted room, in his bed. Katie is curled up against him, the front of his shirt twisted in her hand.

For a moment he relishes in the fact that she's here in his bed again. Then, visions of Wood and a small dark haired baby come crashing in. This isn't right. 'What am I doing?' he thinks as he pushes Katie away and tries to get out of bed. He doesn't dare look at Katie, afraid to see the disgust and anger at him for pawing at her like that. 'She is married,' is the only thought that runs through his mind as he stumbles across the room.

"Marcus? What's going on? Where are you going?" Katie's voice is laced with confusion, not anger, to his surprise.

"This…" he waves his hands between them, pain flaring with each movement, "This isn't right."

"What are you talking about?"

Marcus finally looks at her. Her hair is dishevelled and the front of her blouse ripped open, exposing a delicate lace bra. His hand twitches in eagerness to hold her again. He shakes his head to rid himself of these thoughts. Why is she here? His Katie would never crawl into another man's bed, not when she had a family of her own. "I… You should…" Without fishing what he wants to say, Marcus leaves the room as fast as he can. The sight of her , like this, is too much to bare. He knows that he can be a bastard when he wants to be one. But never, ever, would he break up a marriage.

"Marcus! Come back, you're wounds have not healed yet!"

He doesn't look back as she calls out to him. As fast as he can, he walks away from her, the house. He does not stop until he reaches the cemetery. His mother's grave the only place where he can let go of the anger and desperation.


	8. Chapter 8

The air in the room was tense. Marcus and his colleague, Henry, were giving their statements to the Auror the MLE had sent over. Katie watched impatiently as the men softly spoke, their words a muffled mess by the time they reached her ears. The Auror had cast the charm on Marcus' insistence when Katie had refused to leave the room earlier.

She knew that Marcus didn't want her here, at all. But, having spent days nagging at him to file a report on his attack, she needed to be sure that he actually went through with it. Whomever had hurt him last week, should be caught and punished in her opinion. Even if Marcus desperately wanted to ignore it had happened at all, to her frustration.

Both McLeod and Marcus held their wands at their temple and extracted a silvery substance, their memories of that night. She watched the men carefully deposit the evidence in the phials the Auror held out. Hopefully, those images would be able to help the MLE to catch the bastards who had done this. Katie had a good mind to search the streets herself for them. But, other than what McLeod had told her the night he had brought Marcus home, she knew nothing more.

Katie wished that Marcus would open to her, tell her what had really happened. Not that he talked all that much, even less than they had before. The tentative sort of friendship that they had built of the weeks had vanished since last Saturday morning. Katie still wasn't sure about what had happened. One moment she tried to wake him from his apparent nightmare and the next they had been snogging like they had during early days of their relationship. For a minute, she had thought that all would be fine between them, until he bolted out of the room like someone had set Fiendfyre to his trousers.

Marcus hadn't looked at her or even tried to have a conversation with her since then. The kiss was not discussed or acknowledged. In fact, she was sure that her mere presence agonised him for some reason.

Sighing, Katie glanced at her watch. She was expected to pick up Emma in an hour, do her shopping, mind the baby and prepare dinner. Oliver had invited his teammates over, something he had reminded her about nearly every daily for the past two weeks. And as usual, ignoring something didn't make it go away. Her life was proof of that; she still lived with Oliver, had a brain numbing job and on top of that, Marcus was determined to keep his distance, despite her efforts to regain what they once had. Shaking her head slightly, Katie tried to focus on the positives in her life. Marcus was let out of that hellhole and Emma.

The scraping of chairs brought Katie's attention back to the three men in the room. They were finished. The men shook hands by the front door, the Auror promised to keep them up to date on the investigation. But, Katie was sure that an attack on someone like Marcus would not have priority. The man's expression and tone just confirmed it to her.

Once again, they were alone again. Marcus leaned against the door, his eyes closed and lost in his own world. He still looked to pale for her liking and all she wanted to do was hold him close and reassure him that it would all be well in the end. "You should go up to bed."

Maybe, it was her hand on his shoulder or her words coaxing him out of wherever his mind had wondered to. Marcus jumped away from him, his face twisted in anger. "Get out," he hissed at her.

"Marcus, I-," Katie tried, not understanding his reaction. He didn't let her finish, though.

"Get out," he repeated angrily and threw the door open. "Now!"

Katie wasn't sure what had chilled her more, the icy wind gushing through the open door or his words. Whatever it was, she didn't argue with him and summoned her belongings. As she passed him, her eyes downcast so he couldn't see the tears threatening to spill over, Katie couldn't help but grasp his hand, "Please, go and rest. I've left soup on the stove."

He pulled away his hand, the only response to her words.

As Katie stood outside, gathering the strength to return to her unwanted life, she wept in silence. The hope she had felt a few short weeks before was fading away rapidly. She wouldn't give up, though. Not until the old Marcus returned to her or told her to stay away from him.


	9. Chapter 9

The Tornadoes Quidditch pitch was filled to the rim. Colourful banners swayed in the gentle wind and numerous fans sang and chanted to encourage their favourite team. The match tonight was between the Tornadoes and Puddlemere. Both teams were evenly matched and it promised to be an exciting game to watch. Betting offices in Diagon Alley had been busy all week leading up to this day, Seers had been consulted on forehand and everyone seemed to think that they would win the jackpot.

If Marcus would have had money to spare, he would have placed a bet. He was sure that the Tornadoes would win, not by catching the Snitch, but purely on points; like Ireland had against Bulgaria years ago during the World Cup final. Unfortunately, he couldn't spare the money. If hadn't been the caretaker for the Tornadoes pitch, he wouldn't have even been here watching the game. The tickets didn't come cheap and it was a frivolity he could not afford.

Swaying on his last legs, he watched the players flying high above him. Together with Henry he was stowed away behind the pillars that supported the spectators stands. They might have been allowed to watch the match, but that didn't mean that they were allowed to sit with the paying crowd. Not that Marcus minded, sitting in between hundreds of people did not appeal to him, the thought alone made him nervous.

His body hurt, the freshly healed wounds still bothered him. But he couldn't take the time to heal properly; not working meant no pay and that meant no food and repairs to the workshop. He reckoned that he could go without food for a few days, but delaying to open up the shop was not negotiable. It was all that was left of his parents and he wasn't about to give up on it.

Henry passed him the binoculars he had nicked of a Muggle tourist in London. Lacking the means to buy proper Omnioculars, they had been sharing the Muggle thing throughout the game. Bringing the device to his eyes, he glanced up. Not to look at the players, though. No, he watched the stands across him. Because there, Katie sat donned in the Tornadoes colours between the Puddlemere fans. She didn't notice the ugly looks the others around her kept throwing at her and kept cheering each time one of the Tornadoes players scored. He wished the binoculars

Marcus had to admit, her attire had surprised him when he spotted her earlier. Knowing that she was with Wood now, he had expected her to root for Puddlemere and sit with the other spouses. It was good to know that she still had that defiant streak in her he loved so much. If only she would defy him now and come back to the cottage. Ever since he had practically thrown her out, last week, she hadn't come by anymore. He missed her, all of her; her maddening chatter to compensate his silence, her ability to warm the house with her mere presence and most of all, he missed having her near.

He was ashamed of the way he had reacted the way he had to her. He liked to believe it had been the Auror's fault, who had practically mocked him and fuelled his anger for not being believed. The arse had all but taken the attack on him as a joke. Marcus was sure that the man never even looked at the memories Henry and he had given. It had felt like his arrest, over two years ago, again. And in reaction, he had taken his frustration out on Katie. Blamed her for putting him through that humiliation.

When she hadn't showed up for breakfast the next morning, Marcus hadn't thought much of it and looked forward to see her in the evening and properly apologise. She never came though, and her absence was becoming more profound with the day. Seeing her here illuminated the darkness in him that he had felt all week.

An outburst of cheers and a hard claps on his back, brought Marcus back to reality.

"We won, my boy! We won!" Henry cheered happily.

Looking up to the scoreboard, Marcus realised that Tornadoes won indeed. He would have had a small fortune if he had the money to bet; Puddlemere caught the snitch, but the Tornadoes won on points. Wood must be having a really bad day. Marcus shook his head, laughing, "I guess we did."

"Come, let's get started and we'll celebrate later. I have some beers waiting for us in the back."

"You knew we were going to win?" Marcus asked disbelievingly, in the few weeks he had worked with the man, he never guessed an outcome correctly.

"Merlin, no," Henry laughed, "I reckoned we would celebrate or need to drink away our sorrows."

"I like how you think, McLeod," Marcus replied and cocked his head towards the pitch, "Let's get started, then. The sooner we can get started on those beers."

The men tossed on who would clean what side of the pitch and got started. It was nearly two hours later when Marcus made it to the visitors' locker-room. He was looking forward to get the foulest part of his work over with and start on those beers Henry had promised him. A lone figure sitting beside the entrance to the changing rooms made him stop dead in his tracks. She was clearly dozing off. "Bell?"

Katie gave a start and looked up bleary eyed, "Marcus? What are you doing here?"

He frowned at her. She sounded, and looked, sick and tired; her voice hoarse and her eyes glassy. The fierce woman in the stands earlier was nowhere to be seen. "I work here. Shouldn't you be at home?"

Katie shrugged and slumped back against the wall, rubbing her eyes. "I've been in bed the whole week with the flue. I thought that I was well enough for tonight. I guess I overestimated myself."

Hearing her say those words made Marcus feel better. She had not stayed away because she was angry with him or offended. He slowly moved towards her and tentatively sat beside her. She immediately dropped her head on his shoulder. He heavily swallowed at having her this close again.

"I'm so tired," Katie yawned and snuggled closer to him.

"Why are you still here, then?" Marcus tried to put some distance between them, but she didn't let him.

"Oliver," she mumbled and yawned again, "He's still in there."

Hearing the man's name was enough to raise Marcus' hackles. Adding the fact that the arse kept his sick wife waiting, only enhanced the dislike for the man. "You should be in bed, not waiting in a drafty corridor," he gritted through clenched teeth. He hadn't noticed his hands were clenched into fists until she put her much smaller hand over them.

"I don't mind. I had feeling I would run into you," Katie sounded sleepier with the second it seemed, "It was a great match, wasn't it? Reminded me of the one you took me and Lizzy to. We had fun then."

Marcus smiled at the memory. It had been their first official date and the only way Mr Bell allowed him to take her out was if he took Elizabeth, Katie's older sister, with them. The girl had been the total opposite of Katie with regards to looks, but was the same in character. Against expectation, it had been a nice and memorable evening. "Yeah, we did. How is Liz-."

Marcus was cut short by the opening of the door to the changing rooms. Kate didn't even bother to look up and mumbled something unintelligible and held his hand more firmly. A blonde witch came sneaking out and froze when she saw that she had been caught. Her clothes were ruffled and the paint on her lips smeared. Wood followed seconds later. If he had been surprised at the sight of the former lovers sitting together, he didn't show it. Instead, he whispered something in the blonde's ear which made her giggle. She left soon after.

"You shouldn't have waited," Wood clipped, "I told you that I had something to do after the game."

Katie righted herself and sighed resigned. "And I told that my mother expects us for dinner tonight," she quickly glanced at her watch, "Well, expected an hour ago. Really Oliver, she's going to blame me again for not reminding you."

"You should have told her no, like I asked you to," Oliver shrugged and hoisted his bag over his shoulder, "I have other plans for tonight."

"What about Emma? She's been either at your parents or mine. Aren't you going to spend some time with her tonight?" Katie pressed, soon followed by a coughing fit. Marcus gently patted her on her back in a poor attempt to offer her some relief.

Oliver hesitated for a minute before answering, "I am. Mum's bringing her over later."

There was nothing said between the two for a while. Marcus didn't understand what the hell was going on between the two, but it did anger him how Wood treated Katie and how she seemed to accept it without a fight.

"I need to go. You go home, to bed. You look like death on socks."

As Wood walked away, Katie released her hold of Marcus and shakily stood up. As she put on her cloak, she turned towards Marcus and offered him a shaky smile. She leant forward to brush away the lock of hair that fell on his forehead. "Thank you for sitting with me. I'll drop by as soon as I feel better. Okay?"

Marcus nodded, afraid he might say something unseemly if he used his voice. He wanted to tell her to stay with him and tell Wood to go fuck himself. He wanted to shake her and tell her off for choosing a tosser like Wood to share her life with. As he watched her walk away, he wondered what had happened to _his_ Katie. _She_ would have never accepted this kind of treatment.


	10. Chapter 10

Delicious smells wafted through the kitchen at Flint cottage. Kati furiously chopped the vegetables on the cutting board in front of her. A rack of lamb was roasting in the oven, soup simmered on the stove as several other dishes. She was preparing meals that would last Marcus for several days.

When she had arrived at the cottage at the cottage that morning, after a week and a half of absence, she had been appalled by what she had encountered. The house was still clean, but the cupboards had been empty. Other than some stale bread and a lump of cheese, there was nothing left. For the life of her, she couldn't understand how a big man like Marcus survived on that diet. Or, neglected to do some shopping for that matter.

So, after some cussing at an absent Marcus, she went to the market in the village to buy the groceries, cooked and cleaned. But those tasks weren't what bothered her. No, that would be the vile bastards in the village and their evil words. She knew that the villagers made Marcus' life miserable every now and then, but she hadn't known how bad it was.

_'__A Death Eaters, he is.'_

_'__He'll get his upcommance.'_

_'__Betrayed the Puceys, after all. Just as well killed them himself.'_

_'__They should bring back the Dementors for criminals like him.'_

It had taken all of her patience not to lash out or hex the witches and wizards. They had been there that night. How could they even think Marcus was involved? Why was he singled out and not others?

"Sodding bastards. I'll show them Dark," Katie muttered as she mutilated the vegetables. "Fucking cowards."

"Still sick, Bell? You must be hallucinating talking to yourself like that."

Katie looked up, and narrowed her eyes. Marcus was leaning against the door post, grinning at her. He had some colour to his face, but he was still too skinny and even looked like he had lost some weight since she had last seen him. "You!" she hissed and pointed her chopping knife at him.

"What?" Marcus frowned at her.

"You are supposed to be taking better care of yourself, you git. Only bread and cheese is not enough. A week, a leave you alone for a week and you starve yourself. Sit down, soup is ready." Even though she was cross with him for not taking care of himself, she was angrier on behalf of him. Taking it out on Marcus was better than upsetting him with what she had heard earlier.

Marcus just chuckled at her, infuriating her even more, and seated himself at the table. Katie poured the chicken soup and cut the fresh bread for him. He murmured a soft thank you and started devouring his soup. "Aren't you eating with me?" he asked between two bites.

"You eat, I still have some work to do." Seeing him enjoy was enough for her and she quickly returned to her cooking.

For once, the silence between wasn't loaded, but amicable. Katie wondered if she should bring up what had happened between them; the kiss, him sending her away. Eventually, she decided against it, afraid of ruining this little progress. She would wait until he brought it up. Racking her mind to come up with a safe subject to discuss, she didn't notice Marcus beside her at the stove until he spoke up.

"Do you have some more? I'm ravished."

Katie smiled up at him, and out of habit brushed his hair out of face. "You need a haircut." He froze at her touch and stepped back. She ignored it. "You sit down, I'll bring you another bowl."

This time, Katie joined him as she served him another helping of soup. They ate in silence beside each other, the only sound the wind whistling around the house. Somehow the amity had shifted in tension. "It's Christmas in a few weeks." She didn't know why she brought it up, but it had been the first thing that popped up in her mind in her attempt to break the silence.

Marcus grunted in reply, without looking up from his soup. Taking that as a positive sign, Katie continued. "We should decorate the house. Mum and dad have enough left over ornaments to spare, they wouldn't. Of course, we'll need a tree, but you can take of that."

"Why would I want to do that?" Marcus asked in between bites, still focussed on his food. He didn't sound too dismissive.

"Because that how you supposed to celebrate Christmas. I'm not going to spend it here if we're not decorating." Kati bit her lip and prayed that he wouldn't take it the wrong way, she practically invited herself over. Her own parents would be on vacation and spending it with the Wood's was not high on her wish list.

Marcus looked at her in surprise, "You want to spend it here? With me? What about your family?"

"Mum and don't won't be here," Katie shrugged, partially answering his question.

"You know what I mean."

Katie didn't reply and instead started cleaning up the table. Oliver and his family were of no concern to her. Emma was too young to understand the concept of the holiday. To her, it would be like all the other days she was dropped off at her grandparents. And it wasn't like she wouldn't have the morning with Emma, just not the whole day. She was not about to let Marcus spend it alone.

"Bell?"

"We'll go hunting for a tree in two weeks? How does that sound? If we go any later, the best ones will be taken," Katie rambled. She set the dished to wash themselves in the sink and moved over to the pots and pans, stirring and seasoning.

Marcus sighed in resignation and stood up, dropping the matter altogether. "I need to get back to the shop if I want get anything more done today. They expect me at the pitch tonight. Will you be here later?"

"No, I need to get home soon." To her surprise, he put his hand on her shoulder, it took all her self-control not to lean in at his touch. He may have allowed it a few days ago, when she was sick, but he was clearly back to keeping his distance again. She did not want to scare him away.

"Thank you, Bell. For everything."

It was longer after he was gone when Katie moved again, smiling to herself at the progress they made today.


	11. Chapter 11

Henry opened two bottles of beer and passed one to Marcus in exchange for the meat pies Katie had made. They had just finished the maintenance and repairs to the pitch and were now sitting in the deserted stands enjoying a very late lunch. The men worked hard today, the match between the Tornadoes and Ballycastle Bats had been a particularly brutal one and the damages to the pitch and the stands had been significant.

"That girl of yours can cook," Henry said appreciatively in between bites, spraying crumbs around, "My Martha still burns the potatoes after forty years. Even with the charmed pots and pans."

Marcus hummed, not wanting to discuss Katie with the older man and pretended to be reading the Prophet. There was an article about Ignatius Montague and his quest for monetary indemnification for the recently released men and women. It was a noble cause, Marcus reckoned, and Merlin knows he could use the money, but he didn't expect the MoM cave in on this any time soon. They had already lost face with the mass release, paying out would only weaken their position.

"Do you have another one?" Henry asked as he picked the crumbs out of his beard.

Marcus chuckled and pushed the container with the pies to him. They were delicious and his favourite, and lucky for him, Katie made an extra batch. She had been trying out new recipes for Christmas the last week and he reaped the benefits of it. "You can have them all, if you want."

"Thanks," Henry thankfully, he already had half a pie in his mouth, "What's her name again?"

"Who's?" Marcus turned the page of the newspaper, only to be confronted with Wood's photograph, grinning and waving at him. Apparently, the arse signed to be the new Nimbus' face. Whereas Marcus was trying to pick up the pieces of his life, Wood managed to skyrocket to the top. And still, it wasn't this achievement that had Marcus jealous, but the fact that Wood had Katie. Having Henry ask about her was only a reminder of that.

"Your girl's, of course. Who else?" Henry opened a second bottle of beer for himself and took a big gulp, washing away the food. "She's a quite nice to look at, she is. How did you get her to give you a chance?"

"Her name is Katie. She isn't my girl." _Anymore_ he wanted to add, but that would only lead to more questions.

"What?"

"Katie is just my friend. Not my girl." Couldn't old coot just drop it already? Saying it out loud did nothing for the pain forming in his chest.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes," Marcus threw the newspaper to the ground in annoyance. Of course, he was sure. The sight of the little happy family outside of the Wizengamot court room was etched to his memory. He had tried hard to purge that image from his mind, still tried to lock it away each time Katie was near. Yes, he was sure.

"Huh, could have fooled me," Henry mumbled and took another sip from his beer.

"What do you mean?" Marcus didn't want to know what Henry meant, but he needed to know if he was behaving too obvious around Katie. He didn't want her subjected to gossip.

Henry frowned, searching for words. Like Marcus, he wasn't much of a talker, certainly not about these kinds of things. "Well, the way she cared for you. She stayed by your side for days and the way she looks at you…" Henry trailed off, still frowning. Sometimes, he had real difficulties with understanding the current generation's views on the matters of the heart. "I saw you last time, just outside the changing rooms. I just thought…"

"She's married." There, he said it and surprisingly enough, he wasn't struck down by lightening. Even if the words left a foul taste in his mouth.

"She is?"

Marcus picked up the paper from his feet and turned to the page with Wood's photo. "To him," he managed through gritted teeth as he pocked the picture, nearly ripping the paper. Henry's reaction was not what he had expected.

"You're pulling my leg, aren't you?" Henry laughed and clapped Marcus on the shoulder, "You sod, you almost had me there."

"I'm not," Marcus scoffed and finished his beer. Why were they discussing this, anyway.

Seeing Marcus was serious, Henry's laugh died. He cocked his head in askance. "She's married to Wood? Puddlemere's Wood? When did that happen?"

"I wouldn't know," Marcus shrugged, rolling the bottle of beer in between his hands. He avoided talking about it with Katie, because he didn't want to know how or why she ended up with Wood. Or, why she was unfazed by the blonde witch last week. Suddenly fed up with the conversation, Marcus stood up and collected his meagre belongings.

"What are you doing?"

"I have work to do at home," Marcus lied, "Tisler's over at Knockturn Alley might be interested in buying some cauldrons off me." Another lie, old Tisler had nearly hexed him out of his store two days ago; the man had been convinced that Marcus was a Death Eater who got off too easily.

"You should stay out of Knockturn," Henry advised fatherly, also standing up, "People might get the wrong idea. With you being fresh out of Azkaban and all."

Marcus tried to smile at the wise words and nodded, "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

As the two men made their way out of the stadium in silence to the public Apparition, they never noticed the figure lurking in the long shadows cast by the setting sun. Their hands were balled in anger and their face was twisted in fury. As Marcus and Henry disappeared from view, the figure stepped forward. The words muttered were unintelligible, but to them it was a promise of revenge to be taken. This time, the bastard wouldn't get away with a few scratches. For now, Flint would have to do with the surprise they had left at his house.


	12. Chapter 12

Katie lay on the sofa staring at the hearth and trying hard to ignore the pain in her leg. She'd overdone herself today. She had worked all evening with Marcus to clean up the mess at his house and repair what they could. Someone had broken in and smashed all the windows, rampaged through all the rooms and to top it off, had tried to set fire to the workshop. Thankfully, that had died out before wreaking serious damages. The Aurors sent to investigate had been convinced that it had been a prank gone wrong and half-heartedly promised to look further into it.

She had been, still was furious on behalf of Marcus, who had been surprisingly calm. It had been as it hadn't deterred him at all. How and why was beyond her. His only reaction had been a sigh of relief when he saw that the workshop had been mostly spared.

Grimacing out of pain, Katie shifted. The badly healed bones in her lower left leg were a result of curse thrown at her during the battle. It had taken the Healers days to regrow the bones, the lingering traces of curse had repelled most of the potions. And even fixed, her leg would always be a soft spot for her. The angry red scars which had once marred the skin were already fading, leaving thick calloused skin behind as a permanent reminder.

On the floor above her, Oliver was shuffling around, cooing at Emma. He had insisted to put her down to bed himself tonight, complaining that she was growing too fast for his liking and he was missing out on so much. Katie had agreed, he did miss out on so much, as she was. Still, she made a mental not to check up on Emma once Oliver was asleep. Just to make sure that he had done everything properly.

Emma was the one safe topic these days, the only thing they could talk about without their conversation ending in a fight. Mealtimes were forced, both wishing they could be somewhere else than be in the company of the other. Oliver never asked where she spend the most of her evenings after work or what she did on her days off when she left Emma in the care of one of the grandmothers. He ignored everything, hoping that it would eventually pass. It wouldn't, Katie already knew and was working up the courage to tell him so one day. Neither of them was happy, they just needed to admit it.

The only times Katie was happy was when she was at Flint cottage; helping with minor repairs, cleaning of the house and making sure Marcus was properly fed. He was still too skinny for her liking. Azkaban had reduced the once hulking man she'd come to love all those years ago to nothing more than skin and bones. In her care he would be back to his old self in no time.

They had reached a strange sort of understanding ever since that day in his father's old workshop, a sort of friendship. They only talked about their day, his and her work and the achievements in the workshop. The happenings of the last two and half years to both of them and her life outside of her work were taboo. He would cut her off every time she started talking about it. Katie didn't understand, there was so much she wanted to share with Marcus, needed to tell him, but never pushed. The fear that he wouldn't allow her to come back if she did was just too great. She could not, would not lose him again.

"You should go up to bed," Oliver's voice came from the door. He strode to the fireplace and threw another log in it. "That sofa is going to ruin your back."

"I'm comfortable here. Is she asleep?"

"Out like a candle. Mum must have kept her quite busy today."

Katie hummed non-committedly as she tried to ignore the pang of guilt that coursed through her. She hadn't bothered asking Mrs Wood how the day had went when she got home. All she had cared about was to get the woman and her disapproving looks out of the house.

"Do you want a drink? A glass of wine?"

"Yes, red please," Katie said as she sat up and wrapped the quilt around her shoulders. Oliver quickly returned from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine and seated himself beside her.

They didn't talk much, preferring the watch the fire in silence and sipping their drinks. The ability to talk to each other all night long was long lost, since the night they had lost the one thing they had in common. Even Quidditch couldn't spark a conversation anymore.

It was Oliver who broke the silence first. Without averting his eyes from the fire, he asked the question she still was working up the courage to reply to. "You're going to leave, aren't you?"

There wasn't a hint of accusation or ill feelings. How could there be? They had always known that this arrangement would be temporary. An arrangement born out of need to help each other move on. Instead, while Oliver managed to do so, Katie had not. Not until recently, that it. She didn't answer him, but nodded instead.

"When?"

Katie smiled wryly at the question. 'When Marcus is ready,' she wanted to say, 'When he is comfortable enough to have me around all the time again.' Instead, she kept her reply simple, "Soon."

Oliver grabbed her free hand, squeezing it hard. "I want you to be happy, Katie. Even if that means without us, or Flint. Don't put it off for our sakes."

"I know," Katie whispered, fighting against the tears. She wouldn't cry, not in front of Oliver. "I love Emma, I really do. But at the same time, I am happy when I'm with him. I feel alive again, free for the first time in a long time. I just need him to say that he feels the same."

"He'll come by. And if he doesn't, it will prove him to be the idiot I always said him to be," Oliver chuckled. "Remember what Lizzy used to say?"

Katie froze, they rarely spoke of her sister and when they did it always ended in tears and slamming of doors. She waited for Oliver to change the subject or retract his words.

"We can talk about her." Oliver, sensing her trepidation, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, "We'll have to eventually."

Silent tears flowed down Katie's cheeks, she didn't bother wiping them away. "What was it she used to say?"

"That the only way you can make something clear to Flint is to spell it out for him. And if that doesn't work, hit him over the head with it." Oliver's voice quivered, but he still managed to laugh together with Katie. "I still can't understand why she was so fond of him."

Nothing was said anymore after their laughter died. They sat together, both deep in thought, holding each other and watching the fire until there was nothing left but glowing embers.


	13. Chapter 13

Marcus stared at the display in his small kitchen. Earlier, delicious smells and the prospect to have Katie all to himself the whole day, had lured him out of bed. He was still trying hard to be just her friend, but it was getting more difficult by the day. The urge to hold her tight and never let go was getting stronger. The only thing holding him back was the knowledge that she already had her family with Wood. He would never ask her to leave that behind. But, it also meant that he didn't want to be confronted with it. That was the only rule he had insisted on.

And now here he was, confronted with just that. Katie was in front of the stove, frying eggs and sausages. That wasn't an unfamiliar sight, she had done enough times over the weeks in her quest to fattening him. But, it was bouncer on his kitchen table that had caught his attention, mainly the little baby lying in it. The little tyke was watching him with the same curiosity as he watching her.

"Good morning, breakfast should be ready soon. Sit down," Katie chattered, "Tea?"

Marcus paid her no heed, his attention still fixed on the baby. "Who's that?" It came out harsher than he had intended to, but he had thought that Katie understood. Seeing the child made it harder to deny that there was another side to Katie's life which didn't include him.

"Oh, Mum and Jean, Mrs Wood, went Christmas shopping today. There was no-one else I could leave her with. Don't worry, she'll be asleep most of the day," Katie rambled and set the table, "Her name is Emma. Don't stand there, come sit."

Marcus did as he was told, still a bit in shock. All through the breakfast, he couldn't take his eye of the cooing baby in Katie's arms. It felt a bit surreal and since the first time Katie's visits had started, he wished her to leave as soon as possible and meant it. It was becoming too much. "She looks like him."

"Yeah, she does, poor girl. I had hoped that some of the Bell features would seep through," Katie laughed and tried to flatten the little girl's hair who was having none of it.

Marcus tried to laugh with her, only managing a grimace. "Where is he?"

Katie's smile faltered and she looked away, "He had a visit to make today, always has on Friday's."

Marcus nodded, not wanting to know more. It wasn't none of his business anyway. "I should get going," he cast a glance at the little girl, "Will you be here when I get back?"

Katie frowned at him, "I thought you had a day off today. We were supposed to decorate for Christmas."

He had forgotten about that. Katie had been adamant to decorate the rickety cottage to give it a more homely feel. She'd even brought boxes with decorations over the past few days and had ordered him to find a tree. Marcus had been looking forward to it, now not so much. "McLeod owled late last night," he lied, "One of the other caretakers fell ill."

The narrowing of her eyes told him that she hadn't believed a word he said. Marcus couldn't find it in himself to care. He needed to get away from her and Wood's spawn. "I need to go."

Diagon Alley was packed with shoppers when he apparated just outside of the Leaky Cauldron. It was the first time since his release that he ventured out into the busy shopping street by day and immediately regretted it. The crowds and the noises made his head ache, it was still difficult for him to be surrounded by so many people. He broke out in a cold sweat, his breathing picked up and his heart raced in his chest. It took him a long time to calm down, to find the strength to do something else than just stand in the middle of the street.

Once he calmed down enough, he wandered around aimlessly, peering into the windows every now and then. He took his time at The Broomstix, admiring the new Firebolt, something that was far out of his reach for now. He was still saving up to buy a second-hand broom. Sighing, he moved along.

As he passed Aphrodite's Palace, he was tempted to buy something for Katie. A thank you for her care and the time she'd spent on him the last few months. But, like at The Broomstix, the prices were out of his league. Even a simple bar of soap cost more than he had on him. Defeated, he left the shop again. Maybe, she was better off with Wood. He would certainly have the means to take care of his family. Marcus regretted leaving Katie in such a haste this morning. It wasn't her fault, it was him turning a blind eye. Being confronted with her other life was inevitable. He'd been stupid for wanting to ignore it, he knew that now.

For hours, he wandered the shopping street, not wanting to go home. She was probably gone by now, the house would be too silent, empty in her absence. He didn't know what it was that caught his attention. Maybe, the sense of foreboding. Or, the not so subtle whispers behind him, the feeling that he was being followed. He tried to shake it off, convinced himself that he was being paranoid. Still, he hurried back to the Leaky, Tom would never tolerate trouble in his pub.

He was almost there when someone bumped against him from behind and sharp pain burned his side. Marcus wanted to say something, tell them off for being careless. All that came out was a moan of agony and he collapsed to the ground; his body felt like it was on fire.

The last thing he registered before his world turned black were the hordes of witches and wizard crowding around him and that one familiar face, sneering at him.


	14. Chapter 14

A cloaked figure approached the small cottage, their wand firmly in hand. The high of victory was still rushing to their veins, making them feel invincible, giddy even. If everything went according to plan, the sorry excuse of a man should be dead by now. A small chuckle escaped the figure at the thought of the agonizing pain Flint must have endured before he let out his last breath. There was just one little step left in their plan of rid the earth of the traitor and murderer, wipe out his whole existence. And they knew the perfect curse for it.

Suddenly, they stopped when the cottage came into view, there were lights burning inside. That should not be possible, the bastard lived alone. Had he charmed the lights to pop on as soon as the sun set? Did he think that would keep unwanted visitors away? No, the idiot was not that smart.

Frowning, the figure inched closer and pulled the hood further over their head. As they came closer, a feminine figure appeared behind the window of one of the rooms, a small child in her arms. From under the rim of their hood, the figure watched the familiar looking woman bounce the child and laugh. The sight angered the figure as the presence of the two ruined their plans, not the mention the unfairness of it all. Why should Flint be allowed to have the girl and child when others did not? Cussing under their breath, the figure mused on what to do; leave or continue with the plan.

A decision was soon made.

Katie tried to distract Emma to the best of her abilities. The unfamiliar surrounding had kept the little girl from sleeping and she was getting fussy. Katie knew that she needed to head home, but also wanted to give Marcus a piece of her mind, maybe even hex him a little for abandoning her when he had promised to spent the day together. The only problem with that was that she didn't know when he was returning for her to do so. He had been gone the whole day without a word on his whereabouts. She didn't believe for a minute that he was at the Tornadoes stadium

Not only had he run out on her and Emma, leaving her to decorate the house on her own. The git hadn't even thought about activating the protection charms around the cottage. All she had managed was a notification charm, she couldn't leave Emma long enough to cast more.

Katie knew why Marcus had left, it was quite clear. He had never been able to keep things from her for long and it surprised her that it took her so long to figure it out. Looking back at the past weeks, it explained his behaviour, the distance he had kept. If she hadn't been angry, she would have laughed at it, at him. Marcus was in for a good scolding, he could count on that. Emma's whimpers broke Katie's musings on the jinxes she wanted to try Marcus. The little girl had reached her limits and so had Katie for today.

"You want go home?" she cooed at Emma. The girl replied with a toothless yawn. "Let's go then. We'll return tomorrow to kick Uncle Marcus in the shins, what do you say? Or even better, we'll make him change your nappies."

Katie didn't bother to pack up Emma's bouncer or some of her toys as she planned on bringing her again the next day. Just as she had put Emma's jacket on, there was a loud pounding on the door. Katie frowned, her wand had not alerted her that the ward was tripped. It was then that she realised that she didn't have it on her. Another series of pounding, more firmly this time, did not give her time to grab it from the kitchen.

"Who is there?" she called out to win some time and strapped Emma firmly in the sling against her chest. There were some sounds in the distance, nothing she could make out. It reminded her of someone trying to scream through water. Katie called out again as she summoned her wand, not in the slightest interested in opening the door to strangers without it.

"Katie? Open up!" was the panicked reply in a very familiar voice, "Katie!"

"Oliver?" Without thinking, she ran to the door and swung it open. Oliver rushed inside, he looked stressed and haggard, his wand was out and there were was a burn mark on his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver returned to the door opening and cast a spell that lightened up the surroundings. The only thing out of the ordinary was a discarded cloak on the ground near the door. As soon as the light faded, Oliver closed the door and spelled it shut before he turned to her. He rubbed his face, leaving a smudge of blood on his cheeks from a cut in his palm. Katie grabbed his hand, the wound was shallow, more a scrape than anything else. "Are you all right? What happened?"

Oliver shook his head, swallowing hard, and stepped closer to see if Emma was all right. "We need to leave. Now. I'll explain later."

"No, tell me first why you're here" Katie protested and pointed at the door, "What was that all about?"

"We don't have time for that now," Oliver replied impatiently, "We really need to leave."

"You're scaring me," Katie said and tried to take a step back. But, Oliver grabbed her arm firmly before she could get out of his reach and pulled her close, nearly squashing Emma in between them. Then, before she could comprehend what was happening, he Apparated the three of them away.

A mere seconds later the cottage was ablaze.


	15. Chapter 15

Marcus was confused for a minute, not really understanding where he was and why his whole body felt foreign. The room itself looked a lot like the Slytherin common room. But it had been years since his Hogwarts years, what was he doing here?

Confused and tired, Marcus flopped down on the nearest sofa. He closed his eyes for minute as he tried to gather his thoughts and figure out what was happening. The sound of the door being opened, made him snap open his eyes in surprise and he slightly bend his head towards the door to see who it was. There was no-one and the door was still closed. Furrowing his brows, he stood up and looked around the room. It was as empty as before.

Shaking his head, Marcus sat down again. He wasn't sure for how long he sat there or when he fell asleep, but the next thing he noticed was movement beside him. Again, he opened his eyes in surprise and turned his head to see what happening. The sight in front of him left him speechless.

"Do shut your mouth, Flint. You look like a fish," the dark-haired man drawled as he flipped through a magazine.

"I've finally gone mad," Marcus whispered to himself.

"No, you're not. It's me," the man chuckled.

Marcus warily watched the man. He hadn't changed much since the last time he had seen him. He looked as impeccable as ever, no hair out of place and dressed in the finest robes and shiny shoes. _'The clothes we buried him in,' _crossed his mind and he swallowed hard at that memory.

"Well, aren't you going to greet your old friend?" the man asked, grinning broadly at him.

"But how? Y-you're dead," Marcus stuttered. He was there when the man had died. He even saw him being placed in the casket and lowered in the ground. Adrian Pucey was dead.

"It sounds dramatic when you put it that way," Adrian sighed, "We prefer 'crossed over'. And you're the one to talk, they're digging your grave as we speak."

"So, I'm dead Is this what it is?" Marcus asked, "Are you here to collect me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Marcus. When did you become such a drama queen?" Adrian replied exasperated, "Do I look like a reaper to you?"

Before Marcus was able to reply, the soft singing of a woman floated through the room. The scenery changed from the cool Slytherin common room to the warm beach near his house. The sun was blinding, making him squint his eyes. When he was able to see clearly again, he noticed that Celeste had joined them. She sat next Adrian, his arm draped over her shoulder.

"Don't mind him, Marcus," she smiled serenely at him, "The afterlife hasn't cured him from his sarcasm, as you might have noticed."

She, too, was dressed in the clothes she had been buried in. Her blonde curls swayed in the wind as she drew patterns in the fine sand. Seeing two of his friends filled Marcus with a peace he didn't know that he was missing. "I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"Whatever for?" Adrian asked, "What did you do?"

"I- I," Marcus began to stutter, but the words didn't come out easily. He took a deep breath and tried again, "I just stood by and watched. I-I should have stopped them."

"Oh, sweetie," Celeste sighed. She was suddenly next to Marcus, hugging him tightly, "You couldn't have done anything. How could you have? Even if you were able to break the bonds, they would have killed you, too."

"What she said," Adrian shrugged.

"But, I should have done something!" Marcus protested vehemently, "They threw curses at you-"

"We were there," Adrian snapped. The sun disappeared behind dark clouds and the temperature dropped considerably, "No need to remind us. Look, we don't blame you. We never have. But if that's what you need, fine, we forgive you. Are you happy now?"

Relief washed over Marcus. Even if it was a joke for Adrian, it were the words he needed to hear. Although, he didn't appreciate his friend's tone. In honour of their friendship, he punched Adrian's arm.

"Ow, bloody hell! Why'd you do that for?" Adrian cried as he rubbed the spot Marcus had hit him.

"Don't be a baby, love," Celeste giggled, "You can't feel pain here."

"He didn't know that!" Adrian sighed, "Now you've ruined the joke."

Celeste stuck his tongue out at her husband and with a snap of her fingers, the sun shone again. Adrian protested about ruining the mood, but she paid him no heed. "Aren't you curious to why you're here with us, Marcus?" she asked, ignoring Adrian's mutterings.

Marcus frowned as he tried to recall what it was he had been doing before he found himself in the Slytherin common room. There were only shards of memories; Katie in his kitchen, the baby, walking in Diagon Alley and then just pain and darkness. "Did I die?"

The scenery changed again. He was alone in the middle of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The sun was almost gone, the moon was faintly visible in the sky. He looked around in confusion. "Why do they keep doing that?" he muttered to himself. He felt lost, what was he supposed to do now? He tucked his fists in his pockets and started walking.

"Why the long face, Flint?" a voice behind him asked, "Did someone kick your Puffskein?"

Marcus knew that he shouldn't be surprised to see her here, with how his day was proceeding. Still, he was. Out of all the people he expected to see, she had not been on that list. "Elizabeth?"

"Five points to Slytherin," she joked, "Now that we have established the obvious, care to tell me what's got your knickers in a twist?"

"You're dead? I mean, that's what this place is, right?" Marcus knew that he was warbling, but he couldn't help himself, "When? When did you…?"

"What gave it away? My ethereal beauty?" Elizabeth chuckled, "But to answer your questions; unfortunately I am. I'm still a bit pissed off about that one, though. And no, this place doesn't mean you're dead. See it as a waiting room, some of us just pop by to keep you company. Let's take a walk."

They walked side by side in circles for a long time. It was Marcus who broke the silence first. "What happened?"

Elizabeth didn't look up when she replied, "To me or to you?"

"Both."

"Someone really doesn't like you," she told him flatly, "and as for me, who knew giving birth could kill you? I knew, of course. I just never expected to happen to me."

"What?" Marcus wondered how many surprises were still waiting for him. Katie hadn't told him that her sister had a baby. Or, that she had died for that matter. _'You forbade her to talk about her life, remember?'_

"What what?" Elizabeth asked, trying hard not to laugh.

"You had a baby?"

"Yes, you've met her. My little Emma." There was a longing look on her face and Marcus would have felt sorry for her if he hadn't been too busy with processing the information he was hearing.

"She is yours?"

Elizabeth nodded in reply, "And Oliver's, of course. He contributed to the cause, so to speak. I couldn't have done it on my own."

"I thought…" Marcus trailed off, he wasn't sure what to say.

"I know," Elizabeth patted his arm. "You're thick like that. But you need to go back now. Give them my love." She stood on her toes and kissed him softly on his cheek. "Don't forget, please."

Marcus was back in the Slytherin common room. This time he wasn't surprised at the change or seeing the two persons in front of him. His parents didn't say anything, just embraced him tightly. The three of them stood entwined with each other for a long time before his father pulled away, pulling his wife with him.

"Mum, dad…" Marcus choked, he wasn't ready to let go yet, "I've missed you so much."

"We've missed you too," his mother replied, stroking his cheek gently. He couldn't help but lean into her touch, "But you need to go back. You don't belong here yet."

"Can't I stay?" Marcus knew the answer to that, he knew his parents wouldn't send him away for no good reason.

"It's not your time yet, son," his father replied, watching him with the same longing he had seen on Elizabeth's face, "Not for a long time. You still have some much left to do. We've always been proud of you, Marcus, never forget that. Even when you were a petulant brat. We know that you'll do the Flint name proud." Gary smiled at his son, in his eyes still the ten year old inquisitive boy. "But if you mess up this second chance, we'll will haunt you for the rest of your life!" The man and his wife cackled and shoved Marcus onto the sofa.

Marcus felt himself fall into a dark pit. In the distance he heard someone frantically call his name. Invisible hands pulled at him while the darkness was slowly replaced by the light. He recognized Katie's voice, she was talking to him, asking him to come back. There were also other voices, asking him to move or open his eyes. He wanted to, he really did, but it felt like they were glued together. It wasn't until the light became too bright he was able to do ask he was asked.

He had finally returned to the land of the living.


	16. Chapter 16

The room was too quiet, almost suffocating in its silence. Even the noise from the hallway did not penetrate through the heavy door, shutting them off from the living world. There was no distraction, only a deathly pale Marcus in the bed and her thoughts.

Through the small window on the other side of the room, she could see Oliver talk to an Auror. Both had grave expressions on their faces whilst the one talked and the other took notes. Something was going on and they hadn't let her in on it yet.

It was the same Auror who had taken Marcus' statement just a few short weeks ago. Back then, the man hadn't taken anything serious, had probably locked the statement somewhere in a drawer and forgot all about it. Well, he couldn't ignore it now, not when Marcus lay in this bed fighting for his life.

The Healers told her that the knife he had been stabbed with was probably cursed, quite poorly luckily. The curse stopped the wound from being healed by magic or potions. All that they could do now was wait for his body to heal itself and hope that he was strong enough to do so.

She hadn't believed a word when Oliver told her what had happened earlier in Diagon Alley and later at the cottage. When the truth had set in, she had cried and cursed, and even accused him for hurting Marcus when she knew that he would never do such a thing. He didn't have a reason to. Oliver had held her when she cried, and cried with her until there weren't any more tears to shed.

That was days ago and nothing had changed. Marcus was still on the verge of death, wasting away in front of her eyes. The person who had done this to him, a woman according to Oliver, was still free. He hadn't recognised her in the dark or managed to overpower her. She had flung a cutting curse at him, the same she had used on Marcus. In his efforts to dodge it, he had been forced to let the woman get away.

Katie rubbed her eyes to chase away the tiredness. She didn't dare to fall asleep, too afraid that she might miss a sign of life from Marcus. She tried to stay optimistic, like the others around her. The Healers had been content with the progress, even though they couldn't explain why he wasn't waking up. All she needed him to do was to open his eyes, but he didn't. If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, she would have thought him dead.

The silence in the room was disturbed by the opening of the door, the sounds allowing her to remember that life still went on outside of their little bubble.

"Katie?" Oliver called out softly. "There is a visitor."

She turned around tiredly, ready to tell the person to go away unless they had a solution for the problem. When she recognised the older woman in the door opening the words she wanted to utter didn't come out. "Mrs Pucey?" she croaked out as tears welled up.

"Oh, dear child." The woman rushed forward and enveloped Katie in a hug, allowing her to cry on her shoulder. With a small nod of her head she told Oliver to leave them alone. "I came as soon as I heard."

The two woman stood there for a long time, the one crying and the other trying to console her with well-meant nothings. Just three years ago it had been the other way around. Eventually, the older woman gently pushed Katie away and led her back to her chair beside the bed. They didn't talk, just held each other's hand as they watched Marcus.

"He's a fighter," Mrs Pucey commented nodding, "Always has been. That's why my Adrian admired him so much. Nothing could get him down."

Katie tried to smile at the older woman's words as she kept her eyes fixed on Marcus. But the visions of him during and after the war and the reticence he had adopted since his release from Azkaban came to mind. _They_ had managed to get him down, _they_ had managed to hurt him. She wanted to disagree with the woman, but didn't get the chance.

"I used to tell Marcus to look after my Adrian. He used to be so sickly when he was younger and would beg me to let him out and play. I wouldn't allow it, of course. Not, until the Flint's moved to the village and the boys took a shining to each other. I only allowed the friendship because Marcus swore to me that he would always look out for my boy."

This time, Katie managed to smile. She had heard these stories so many times in the past when Adrian and Marcus would boast about the mischief they had gotten themselves into. Her chest hurt at the memories of her friend and his wife. Two of the many senseless murders, only because Celeste's blood wasn't pure enough.

"Marcus let me down, though," Mrs Pucey spat bitterly, surprising Katie with her change of tone.

"How did he do that?" she asked, scowling at the woman for her harsh words.

"The Flint's were supposed to be a proud Pureblood family and I believed them. And the he brought you home, a worthless Halfblood," the woman retorted acidly. She held her hand up in a successful attempt in silencing a seething Katie. "I could have lived with that, the shame was on his family, not mine. I even allowed Adrian to remain friends with him, with you. Not that he would have listened if I told him not to. And that's where it all went wrong."

"What are you talking about?" Katie cried in anger, trying her best not to hex the woman on the spot. "Why are you telling me all of this now? You know what, I don't want to know. Get out and never come back."

Mrs Pucey, Margaret, laughed at her words and shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere, little girl. I'm not done yet." She pulled out her wand and with an elegant flick locked the door before she pointed it at Katie. "Now, keep quiet and listen."

Katie swallowed hard as she stared at the woman, hoping against hope that someone would walk in.


End file.
